So my dear friend Anna Marie is getting married in March and she had a bridal shower last night and this is what I made for her. It is my first corset and thong. I was pretty happy with how they came out. It was also my first successful zipper! The corset was from a pattern and the thong was from my imagination. Probably neither will fit, but it is a fun object to have I guess. She seemed pretty excited.

Christmas Lies

Josh LOVES his new bike. Thanks to all of you who contributed to it. He had no idea... I fake cried about how I was sad that he wasn't getting anything for Christmas, cause we were just saving up for it. He said that is what totally squelched all hope that I was planning something. It seems as though he will need to practice a little though to get used to it.

Caron Brothers Racing Tee

Not the greatest images, but it gives you a flavor of the gifts I gave my brothers for Christmas. I heart applique.

Holiday Cookie?

My Mom baked these cookies. Hmmm..... She says it is a muskateer holding a rapier. YA.....I'm just saying...

Torrential Downpour

So Josh was inspired to "swim" across the pond this evening when he got home from work and saw that we had a pond again. It has dried up completely in the last few years and has small alder trees growing in it as you can see but that didn't stop this polar bear. Way to go Josh! Luckily no other flooding to report.

New Piece

Baby Steps

This is a short clip (1.5 min.) of Eli's first steps. He's been sort of practicing consistently for a week or so, and now walking is the preffered mode of transportation. The clip isn't fancy, but it's cute.

Facebook on my Face

Ok So last night I got an email from my friend Nicole. She was inviting me to be one of her friends on Facebook. Hmmm.. Ok. I don't know what facebook is, but you have to sign up to see her page, so I did. (I know I'm probably one of the only people you know who has never heard of Facebook, but I haven't.) All of a sudden these people started popping up that I know and thier pictures and I'm wondering how the internet can hear me. It was freaking me out. Like aquaintences and people I see every 6 months were in a column called "friends". How did it know that I even know these people. It showed someone who invited me to facebook 3 weeks ago and was still waiting for my response.. So I started "wandering around the site and clicking on people's profiles and thinking wow..I had no idea my "friends" were so cool. All of my "friends" have lots of other "friends" and I only have 4. Then some comments popped up on my "wall". 2 people wrote Brouwer Power. What? How did they know I was online? Is it like IM where there is a little balloon that says so and so is facebooking? I began wanting my profile to be cooler than it was. I started trying to think of all the cool bands that I like and all I could come up with was Marvyn Gaye and U2. Not really the coolest. I started wanting to know how to put the picture of the cover of the book I'm reading on there and remembered that the book I'm reading is about baby sleep patterns and that that is not really cool. I started listing my favorite tv shows and when it became the longest list I had to go back and add more music and books so I didn't look like a total couch potato. It seems like facebook is the myspace for grown ups. High schoolers like myspace, and grownups like facebook. They both seem like you have to spend a lot of time online to have them look cool. I have a hard enough time writing on this stupid blog. People come up to me and are like, " You havent' updated your blog in a while. I keep checking and there's nothing new!" Dude, I have enough in my life that makes me feel inferior and inadequate. I don't need a blog buster. I just made that up. It is someone who busts you for not blogging.

So I'm taking this class at Cross Sound called Sonship. I took it at Grace the first year we were married and it was the first time I think I understood the gospel. It is all about believing that God has adopted you as a child and that you are no longer an orphan who has to fend for yourself, but you can relax and believe that someone is on your side. I find myself as an orphan most of the time trying to prove things to people and being much more concerned with what they think, than what is true. Facebook kindof hit me in the face with that last night. I went to bed after being online for 40 minutes thinking "What could I add to my profile to make me look better? How could I word that to make it sound more important?" And then I remembered. I spend a lot of time doing this every day. My whole life is spent making a personal profile that looks really good. What has it done for me? Has it made me better? No. I haven't really come full circle with it yet and I'll have to leave it here for now. Nothing witty, not great insight, just something I should probably put under my "favorite quotes" column on my profile. "The means by which we reach the goal is actually the goal itself."-Oswald Chambers

A New Red Wagon!

So as of Friday I am now the mother of a 1 year old. Eli's first birthday was a success and a lot of fun. First thing he did Friday morning was do a somersault off the end of the bed, which was not so good, but things could only get better after that. We had a party for some friends on Friday with alphabet soup and cookie decorating and then on Saturday we had all the family over. Grandma Elaine brought a new red wagon and it was a hit! Cousin Luke enjoyed the wagon as much if not more than Eli and was great at pulling him around the yard.

Josh made 2 cakes: the first with out baking soda, and the second with an insufficiently greased pan. So it looks a bit dilapidated, but I tried to remedy that with my super cake decorating skills. Eli didn't do a face plant, but did wipe a grimy hand across the middle of it to gather as much frosting possible in one sweep.

Tomorrow we have a one year check up and our first swimming lesson! Things have been busy getting ready for the 2 parties, and hopefully I will have a bit more time to write some new posts as the fall progresses.

Birthday Pumpkins

Tomorrow is my Grandpa's 80th birthday and so instead of buying him something that he doesn't need I decided to carve him a birthday pumpkin. He loves dogs and so his is the one with the dog and I made one for Eli too. His has the elephant and the 1 on it. I haven't ever carved a relief pumpkin and it was fun using my wood block tools again. I also grew both of these pumpkins in my garden this year. Happy Fall and Happy Birthday Grandpa.

No Harm No Fowl

So last week I was walking with a friend at Battle Point park and we stopped with our strollers to feed the ducks at the pond some bread and popcorn. We are sitting there throwing the bread and these ducks are obviously familiar with the routine and are coming right up to us. This pleases and yet somewhat unsettles Macrina, the 2 year old in our company. So I see if the ducks will come and eat out of my hand. One brave fellow, (we named him, but I forget what) came right up and gently gobbled down some bread. Macrina tried it and giggled at the tickle of the duck's bill on her palm. Our friend is getting pretty brave and I decide it would be fun for the younger kids still in the strollers ( Sage and Eli) to get a closer look at this fine water fowl. So I tell Sarah, "Ok I'm going to get him to eat out of my hand and you grab him."
"No way, I'm not grabbing a duck." she says.
"Ok then you feed him and I'll grab."
"Ok."

So I seize the greedy duck as he is gobbling out of Sarah's hand and he feels soft and puffy just like you imagine them feeling. Very happy with myself I turn and show Eli and Sage the flapping duck in my hands. They are kicking and waving and Eli squeals cause he knows his momma will catch a duck for him. So said duck is getting anxious and trying desperately to fly away so I throw him out over all the other snacking ducks. As he flaps to the freedom of the center of the pond, all the other ducks take flight with him with a sudden commotion that makes Macrina run and the babies wave with delight.
I guess that was my high last week, catching a duck. He was totally asking for it and I think if you could ask him he wouldn't regret it, cause I kind of was like a theme park ride. Honestly what duck could say it has been launched into flight by a woman wearing a hot pink down vest. (It is actually polyfill. Otherwise I would never have attempted. How rude.)
In the same week however I did receive a nasty note on my car calling me a stupid b---h (I quote.. she didn't actually write it out...) cause I let Gertie off the leash and she was chasing the wild rabbits. She is way too clumsy to catch them. I on the other hand am not too clumsy to catch the duck and I wonder what my name calling adversary would say to that.

Eli's Chores

Eli is becoming more and more helpful around the house. He and Josh are involved in projects together all weekend long.

Esvelt family

Here is a couple of photos from another family shoot I did this weekend. What a great day for pictures.

You Choose

So I know I'm a little behind the times, but when I heard this week that Owen Wilson tried to commit suicide it made me sad. Unlike some of you (Stephanie and Dawn) I don't keep up with celebrity gossip and I know nothing about Owen Wilson's private life. But I really enjoy his movies and it should make me sad when other people are hurting too, but you only hear about famous people trying to kill themselves, cause otherwise the paper would be too full to publish. Anyway I thought about writing him a letter... You know fan mail. I've never written a fan mail letter. So I am posting the 2 versions of what I would say and you can choose which one is a better approach. I hope they're not too long?

#1
Dear Mr. Wilson,

It saddens me to hear about your recent struggle and I thought I would take a moment to let you know that there are people who understand. There have been plenty of times when I have been confused enough, depressed enough, mad enough or indifferent enough to want to end it, but maybe I'm too much of a coward to have done it. I'm 27 years old. Married, and have a child and a college degree. I was raised in a good home and should be totally content, but one rarely is. I often find myself keeping busy with productive things so as to avoid whatever it is that I don't want to think about without looking desperate. Instead I look accomplished and together, which affords smugness and arrogance. In reality it is a coping mechanism just like anything else. I'm not saying this is what makes me understand or even that I totally do. Wait for it. ...
I remember when I heard that Dick VanDyke was an alcoholic. I remembered watching him on Mary Poppins and thinking what fun it would be to have him as my friend just like the Banks children. Someone to take carousel horses into imaginary countryside and dance on rooftops and play the tambourine in a red and white striped suit is definitely someone you want in your corner. I thought, "How could someone so nice, be so unhappy that they would need to drink in order to be fun?" This is how my mother made sense of it to my 9 year old brain. I thought, "No way is it true, Dick VanDyke is such a great guy." I'd like to think that since then I've grasped a bit more of the adult world and its pressures and burdens.
I did a painting in college of 4 self-portraits. I'm wearing safety gear in 3. The last one is me wearing a clown nose. The title is "safety first". I won a scholarship for it though I'm not sure if the judges really got it, or thought it was a statement on the paranoia of our culture. For me some times the safest thing is being funny. People laugh, they like you, and it puts you in the middle of everything and completely out of the picture all at the same time. It feels like disappearing in a way. This is where I imagine you find yourself.
Considering that I don't know you at all and that it is your profession to be the way you are on the screen, I would hate to assume that I can see right through your problems. I've not resolved how to "fix" this in my own life either, but sometimes it is nice to know that even me, a 27 year old mom, stranger, might have some little thing in common with you a famous movie star. I'm not saying it is a little thing.. just that it is hard knowing yourself sometimes. Hardest maybe. Pressure to be who you think others want you to be and not meeting expectations in your own mind. Even now writing this I think, "geeze.. this is Owen Wilson I'm writing to. I should be more tongue in cheek or satirical or something. I'm just sounding bleeding heart pathetic. (not to be insensitive)
I guess the point is that whatever it is that you aren't content with, won't change. It is us that needs the changing. I need to be OK with where my life is right now, staying at home with my baby and living in a small town. I need to be OK with who I am at this moment, knowing I'm not done and as things change I will too. People don't preach honesty. People preach what looks good. Sometimes I don't look good. But as my mother always said, "Be yourself, and if they're really your friends, they'll understand. "

sincerely,
Jamie Brouwer



#2
Dear Owen,

First off I'd like to offer my condolences regarding your recent suicide attempt. Although I've never tried it, I've thought about it. I'm not going to sit here and write about how great you are and how much the world needs you and that being an actor is an important job, and that your so talented and blah, blah, blah. What I'm here to say is, life is hard and you've got to try harder.

For instance, if you really want a reason to end it, try post partum depression. You start the whole cycle by having a baby. Which only happens after you've been pregnant for 10 months. They say it's 9, but it's 40 weeks and divided by 4 that makes 10 months. So after you've been nauseous for almost a year, gained the equivocal weight of a kindergartner and survived labor and delivery, you then don't sleep through the night for at least 3 months and that is the bare minimum. You sit on the couch in your sweats and breastfeed every 2 hours around the clock, your husband goes back to work and you are left there to clean, cook and raise an inspired, well balanced child. If you're lucky your baby doesn't end up with colick or reflux or allergies or any other myriad of mysterious reasons for crying incessantly. Don't get me wrong, I love my child, and I love being a mom, but there is a reason Hillary Clinton took the platform, "..it takes a village."

And that brings me to my point, it takes a village. You are not supposed to be doing life alone. You were not meant to figure it out and complete the task. We are designed to journey together. And if that is too touchy feely for you, you better watch out, cause I have heard about what those Malibu rehab places make you do on NPR. And yes, you do offer a bit of comedy to an otherwise hard to swallow reality. So keep up the good work as far as movies go, but as for your personal existence you're going to have to do better. The good news is, you don't have to worry about your boobs sagging when it's all over.

Jamie Brouwer

All in Stride

So Josh and I went to Seattle today to walk around downtown and relish the last day of "summer". We walked on the ferry with Eli and the mega-stroller and planned to go up to the market and find some lunch. We ended up wandering around for like 2 hours and carrying the stroller up 7 or 8 flights of stairs due to broken elevators. Everyone and their great aunt Mildred was walking around too and I remembered how I feel about crowds. So we are striking out and Eli is getting fussy and has only slept like 30 mnutes in the stroller that we brought so it would be easier for him to nap. We head down towards SAM and stop in to see if I can use a gift certificate I've been carrying around for 3 years.

As we're walking out I see the van out front, on end, cut in half, looking official. I know it's his. This guy I graduated with... John Sutton turned into an instant art star after Cornish and now he has a permanant piece out front at the SAM. So I look at my reflection in the windows, my lame hair, my frumpy mom capris, my functional earth shoes and think how it could have been different. Could it? I don't know. Then Josh comes down the sidewalk (cause he couldn't go down the stairs..again) and he is pushing the stroller with our beautiful baby in it and I remember that however lame today was, I wouldn't want anything else in place of these. I get wrapped up in what I could have done, like a choose your own adventure book, and want to read all the possible endings before I actually commit to a choice. But when it comes down to it having people in your life that are your home that you can be anywhere and feel like there is a piece of you that belongs and is understood and wanted is worth more than the validation I would get from being a successful artist.

I talked with a friend this past week about being a mom with a career and the sacrifices and what you have to be prepared to let go of when you have kids. Her husband came in part way through the conversation and heard me talking about how hard it is to see people I graduated with in galleries and publications and that it makes me feel like I can never get back in it because I missed the boat. It is all about connections and I don't have any. And he said he goes through the exact same thing. This guy was the director of the E.R. at Harrison Hospital which services most of the peninsula and he resigned from that position to just be a regular ER physician so he could be with his family more. He said he hears reports on NPR and the doctors interviewed are guys he graduated with. He reads journals and sees research published by guys he graduated with and he thinks, "look at me I'm just a cog in the wheel at some backwater hospital in Bremerton." He's a successful DOCTOR providing for his family and respected in the community, and he feels like a career loser too.

So where does that leave me? Hopeless? No one is ever really there? When do we arrive? He suggested I write to the Cornish alumni association and tell them that I've been teaching art lessons in my grandparent's basement all summer, and sewing baby bibs and writing lesson plans for my 1 day a week art teaching job this fall. I thought about how funny that would be. I wonder if they would publish that in the newsletter? ....... Who cares..... I am having fun sewing and spending time making art with kids and watching my son try to figure out how to walk.

Quote for the day

So Josh says to me, "The only good thing about Mormanism is polygamy. Think about it James, if I had seven wives you would only have to make dinner once a week."

Flouride?

So when Eli went in for his 9 month check up the doctor prescribed a liquid fluoride supplement because we're on well water and it isn't fluoridated. I've heard conflicting information about fluoride and that if used topically it can be really beneficial, but when ingested it can be harmful.
My friend sent me an article that is written by some anti-fluoride group and has like 600 signatures of medical professionals who want to see fluoride taken out of public drinking water. Supposedly it is an industrial waste by-product and not approved by the FDA. I would love to attach the article to this blog, but I'm not tech savvy enough to know how to add a link. If anyone has any thoughts on either topic, fluoride or how to add a link, please comment below. Sorry it has been so long since I wrote and sorry that this is a semi lame entry with no picture.

Family Portrait

This is a portrait of a family that I took this last weekend. It was fun and challenging shooting this size group and although the light was a bit tricky they seemed to come out pretty well.

good enough to fool myself

So yesterday my mom was cleaning out some old files and found my school records from 3-5th grade. We moved from California in November of my 3rd grade year and I transferred from a private school there to a public school here. After being there for a year I transferred again, this time for academic reasons, to a private school off island. Once 4th grade was complete my mom had had it with the state of education in the area and started what is now the Carden Country School. It was in our home those first couple of years and was a big change for us as a family and for me as a learner.

In my recently recovered files, I found standardized test scores and grades from these 3 years in school as well as teacher comments and samples of work. From my 2nd grade class there was a report card that was straight A's with the exception of PE which I got a B+ in. Not surprising that that was my field of "struggle". In 3rd grade I was apparently "considered for an accelerated and extended program but not selected due to an SCAT score." Whatever a SCAT is. I have never been good at taking tests. This will be proven later with my SAT score (960) in which I earned over 700 points on the verbal and the remaining on the math. Luckily Cornish was progressive enough to not look at SAT scores. So then in 4th grade we took the Stanford standardized tests and I scored the reading level of a 10th grader with the vocabulary of an 11th grader and was in the 99th percentile for listening skills. Again where is the low? Well in my mathematics operations and properties I scored below average with my 18/34.

Ok bla, bla bla nobody cares about your grades from elementary school. Right. But here is the interesting part and why I'm even bothering to write any of this down. Looking at teacher comments, every teacher all 3 years, at a public school with 30 kids in the class, at private Christian school with 1/2 that, and then "homeschooling" with my mom as my teacher they all said I needed to make more of an effort. "Jamie's workhabits have lessened in quality. She needs to be willing to stretch herself." "Jamie's vocabulary is excellent, but she needs to work much more carefully on her written French. It is a challenge she seems reluctant to assume." "...she needs to improve on double checking her work."

So I've always thought of myself as someone who tries really hard at what is in front of me, but then as I really think back and am honest with myself I guess I am pretty put off by hard work. I just want things done fast and don't have a lot of patience for small details or always doing things the "right" way. For instance I'm sewing today and getting super frustrated because I just make stuff up and it doesn't work and then I get mad instead of just looking up how to do it in the first place. I want things to be pretty and functional, but am usually adverse taking the time for good craftsmanship. It makes Josh furious how I rush through things and say that's good enough.

So I'm feeling pretty discouraged because I am seeing myself as someone who I didn't really think I was but maybe really am. And no, you can't reassess your whole identity because of some stupid papers, but I do find myself often frustrated or annoyed with washing the walls before you paint them or getting out the tape measure and level to hang a picture or soaking the seeds over night before you plant them, and therefore skipping the preliminary steps.

So where does this haste serve me well? I don't know. When I was teaching I tried to see all my students short comings as a positive somewhere. Obstinance meant that they were thinking for themselves... etc. But how can not wanting to work hard or essentially being lazy be an attribute? I am not writing this fishing for compliments, but more as a confession or admittance that a lot of times I do a pretty good job at lying, even good enough to fool myself.

Diaper Free

So my friend Sarah has two little girls. One is 2ish and the other is 3 weeks younger than Eli. She does this thing called "elimination by conversation" which is basically diaper free living. She is essentially potty-training from birth. The way it works is she watches for signs that her girls display that "say" potty time and then she holds them up and they go. It is actually very cute and she makes this little psstsstss sound so they know what is going on. It is like any other body language that babies use to communicate, we just don't look for it enough.







Today Josh was changing Eli and talking about how cute his little buns are and that he needs to be naked more often because it is so nice to be naked and because he is so cute. So later in the afternoon we had just gotten back from a hike and I was trying to get Eli ready for a nap. I took off his diaper and remembered what Josh suggested.



Now I had needed to use the potty myself for about 1.5 hrs. and thought, "OK lets give Eli some naked time..." and left him on the floor in his room to go answer the call. He has on his floor a beautiful hand made quilt from a friend and when she gave it to me she said "Oh please promise that you'll use it and not just fold it up and put it away cause it is fragile or something." So it is on the floor for play time.



As I come out of the bathroom Josh says from Eli's room, "Oh James the worst thing that can happen when a baby doesn't have a diaper on just happened." And there is our son rolling and kicking and scooting in all his naked glory on his beautiful quilt that is now covered in poo. He seems to be very pleased with himself and when I sit him up his whole tummy and legs and arms have a thin but distinct layer caked on. How does this happen in the 2.5 minutes I leave him?



So I hose him down in the bath tub, clean the chunks out of the drain, scrape the mass of it off the quilt and throw it in the wash. As for Eli, his naked days are over for now and so is our attempt at diaper free living.


(The picture doesn't do the scene justice, but you get the idea.)

Project Maturity

So my dear friend Dawn recently came back from a visit to her grandmother's house and came up with this assignment for herself. (That is why she and I get along. We're homeschoolers, we know how to give ourselves assignments.) Anyway she calls it project maturity. For her that means that she has to wash her hair more often than she does and she has to send more care packages and go to the dentist and stuff like that. I liked the idea and when I thought about how I could implement it in my life, I realized we all are in some way or another already dealing with project maturity.

Take for example my little brother. (God bless him he just turned 20 on Sunday. Not so little anymore I guess.) He is off in Phoenix going to school and miserable because it is 110 degrees and air conditioning is expensive, his room-mate bailed on him, he is tired of going to school year round and wants a break. Project maturity says too bad. It is hard being 20. Grow up. So you think ok, I'm going to fight it and you stay up too late and rent stupid movies and try to do that nylon over the quarter think at the laundromat and it doesn't work and you wind up having to buy a new industrial washer (not really) but it feels that way and all you're trying to do is make it fun, cause everyone and everything is out to swallow you alive.

So you either get swallowed alive or you figure it out. Some people decide they are very grown up and just get mean, grouchy and self important. Some people decide that they are going to do whatever the hell they want and expect their poor planning to be your crisis and are pissed off when it's not. So how do you meet in the middle? How do you stay young at heart with out fighting the loosing battle with maturity? And how do you love people in the midst of your version of the project and their version of the project?

For me project maturity says sometimes you have to move back in with your parents to save money. It says that when your baby is crying in the middle of the night, and all you want to do is sleep for 10 more minutes, and can't he figure out how to put the passifier back in his own mouth? that you get up and do it because there are things in life that are more important than you. It says that even though you want to sit around and play with photoshop during nap time, that you fold the laundry because you have to pace yourself and this may be your only chance.

So it sounds like project maturity is the devil incarnate and that the only people who actually follow through with all this "responsiblity" are masochistic holier than thous. Well I think that is what I had thought until now.

I think that project maturity has to do more with the common good and being a little less about yourself and a little more about others. It means doing things that need to get done and doing things for someone else before you.

So I took a picture of the kitchen sink. It is empty and clean and if for no other reason I thought it needed documenting. Today Josh came home and after working for 8 hours and commuting for 1.5 he did the dishes. He loaded the dishwasher and started it. Something I've been trying to do for 4 days now. He conquered my beast and although I unloaded the dishwasher and washed all the hand wash items, he got me past the wall I couldn't scale. That is success in the project. He laid in the hammock after that, so he still had time to relax and read is book, but he did for me what I totally should have done and he did it with out complaining.

Now the kitchen isn't glamourous and exciting when it is clean and that is why he did it, and you'll notice that the butter dish still needs to be dealt with and that there are paint brushes on the window sill that need cleaning. But project maturity isn't project perfection, it is just loosening your bonnet a bit to let the "selfish" bee out and putting on your gloves, to be ready for the mess of what's next.

Calcium

new growth

Sun, Water and Sand

He is the Bainbridge I love

So it has been about 3 weeks now that we have been on the island living with my parents. I am pleasantly surprised at how nice it is to have the opportunity to get to know my parents again. My Dad in particular. Here is a little picture into the person he is.

Last week he wanted to clear out the dandelions that had gone to seed (turned to puff balls) but didn't want to spread the seeds, so my mom suggested putting a garbage bag over the tops of them and cutting the stems. My dad had a better idea. He marched himself outside with a long extension cord and his beloved shop vac and sucked the tops off every one of those weeds till his garden was safe from future generations of the prolific yellow impostor.

A number of years ago my parents remodeled their kitchen and instead of spending the extra money to get fashionable appliances they waited till the original ones died before they put in new ones. So we're upstairs and the dishwasher door is locked and I said, "Oh are these dishes clean?"
My dad says, "Well you'll have to check and see."
"But the door is locked..."
"It's broken. It falls open if you don't lock it."
"Then you can finally complete the remodel and get a new dishwasher!"
"The machine is operational, it just has a broken door, and if my biggest problem in life is a perfectly good dishwasher that has a broken door I would say I'm doing all right."

Today Josh is cleaning out the storage shed on the property and separating the huge wood pile into burnable, buildable and garbage. So he asks my dad to go through the piles and make sure he hasn't "miscategorized" anything. My dad says, "Well we don't want to burn anything that is at all processed because that will affect the air quality. So put the stuff you can't burn back in the shed and I'll get rid of it the way I did the bathtub."
When my parents remodeled the upstairs bathroom they ripped out the fiberglass tub/shower and instead of spending money to haul it to the dump my dad put all the pieces in the shed and week by week broke it down and put what he could fit into his garbage can for the local pickup.

I'm discussing back pain with my dad and he says he tried really hard not to lift any of our furniture, while helping us move in, alone, and yet his back still feels strained. I asked what other activities he had recently done that could have caused this. He said he thought about that on the ferry that morning and remembered that he checked the air pressure in his tires (car) a couple of days ago. I asked how that could strain his back and he said the pump at the gas station doesn't go high enough for the recommended pressure on his tires, so he pumped them up himself, by hand, with a bike pump. He wants to make sure to get the best fuel efficiency from his car. (Josh mentioned that he has a construction grade air compressor that he could use next time.)

I'm not sure what else to say other than he may sound cheap and at times I have definitely thought that about him, but the more I think about it, he is a really good steward of the things he's been given, and is not at all afraid of what other people think of him. Living on Bainbridge Island has a way of making you want to keep up with the Jones', but not for my dad. He is a true conservationist at heart. Why pay for something you can get for free with a little hard work and patience? So forget the yuppie Bainbridge you thought you might know, or even the hippie Bainbridge you might remember, cause my dad isn't either. He is the Bainbridge I love and will always associate with home.

Peas and Carrots

Daddy says "no playing with your peas and carrots."

More old work